


Commitment

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Nevada meets Caractacus's father
Relationships: Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: Valentine's Day 2021 exchange





	Commitment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarahcakes613](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/gifts).



Nevada watched Caractacus from under his lashes while the inventor puttered around the house, flipping switches and turning dials and doing a bunch of things Nevada didn’t understand. Normally Nevada despised not being the smartest person in the room; he couldn’t stand the thought of people around him knowing something he didn’t. But he knew he could never compete with Caractacus in a battle of intelligence.

Maybe he couldn’t compete with him in a battle of brute strength, either.

Nevada wasn’t worried about Caractacus using those things against him, though. Caractacus could fight if he needed to fight—if his children were in danger, Nevada knew that Caractacus would do anything necessary to protect them—but it would never be his first choice. 

“You could help instead of just staring, you know,” Caractacus said, glancing back toward the sofa where Nevada was lounging.

“How the fuck I’m supposed to help when I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“I can show you how all these things work.”

“Why you need a machine to water your plants,” Nevada muttered. “You put water in a—” 

The doorbell rang, surprising him. 

“Will you get that?” Caractacus asked.

“You want me to answer the door?” Nevada answered in disbelief. “What’m I, your butler?” He’d already pushed to his feet, but he felt a slither of unease as he headed toward the door. “You expecting someone?”

“No. Probably a salesperson or something.”

Nevada rubbed his hand nervously at his hip, missing the reassuring weight of a gun. He checked through the small window beside the door, frowning at the sight of the man on the doorstep. He was wearing a ridiculous domed hat and had tufts of white hair jutting out from beneath. His bushy beard was also white and just as unruly, and it crawled up his cheeks to meet his hair.

Nevada pulled the door open, still frowning. _The fuck you want?_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he remembered at the last moment that this was Caractacus’s house and that probably wasn’t the sort of first impression he wanted to make on the neighbors. “Help you?” he asked instead, but he’d barely gotten the words out before the old man shoved past him.

“Safari time,” the guy said without preamble, striding into the house as though he owned the place.

“Hey!” Nevada said, noting the man’s British accent and the suitcase he’d left on the doorstep. “The fuck—” He stared after the man in disbelief, too stunned to grab him and throw him out. The geezer made a quick survey and strode toward the bathroom almost directly ahead. Nevada turned and looked at Caractacus, who was staring with his mouth open as the old man pushed the bathroom door closed. “Did he—He just said…” Nevada stopped, his eyes narrowing as a laugh bubbled out of Caractacus’s throat. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Caractacus said, laughing again. “Although I didn’t expect to see him _here_.”

Nevada watched as Caractacus retrieved the suitcase from the doorstep and carried it into the house. “I guess he’s taking a shit in our bathroom?”

Caractacus shot him an amused smile. “Our bathroom?”

Nevada ground his teeth, glaring. He didn’t like the irrational jealousy suddenly churning in his stomach. “He the ‘relations’ you talked about?”

Caractacus blinked at him. “What?”

“He’s old and hairy.”

“He’s my father.”

It was Nevada’s turn to blink. “Father?”

Caractacus walked toward him. “My father,” he confirmed.

“You got a father?” Nevada asked, fighting his urge to fidget when Caractacus stopped in front of him.

“What’d you think?”

“Thought you got built in a lab somewhere or something,” Nevada muttered.

“No, I mean what did you think, some guy walks in my house and I must be sleeping with him?”

Nevada crossed his arms over his chest. “You didn’t say your father was coming to visit,” he said. 

“I didn’t know my father was coming to visit,” Caractacus answered calmly. “If you’d asked me two minutes ago, I’d have said he was in England. But—” He broke off as the twins came racing into the house from the backyard, slamming the door behind themselves as they ran. Caractacus grinned at their excitement.

“We saw grandpa!” Jeremy shouted. 

“Where is he?” Jemima asked. “How long’s he staying?”

“We shall have to ask him that when he’s finished in the loo,” Caractacus laughed, ruffling Jeremy’s hair as the boy bounced in place. “Maybe we can—” he started, turning toward Nevada, but Nevada cut him off.

“I gotta go,” he said, shrugging into his leather jacket.

“Wait, what? Go where?” Caractacus asked, his smile gone as Nevada backed toward the door. 

“Got shit to do.”

“Nevada—”

“Don’t wait up.”

“But you said you’d—”

Nevada closed the door before Caractacus could finish, and he strode down to the street before pausing to look back. The door was still firmly shut, and Caractacus wasn’t coming after him. 

Nevada got into his car and, with one more glance toward the house, drove away.

* * *

Nevada sauntered into the house at just past seven pm, hoping he’d missed dinner, but Caractacus wasn’t home. The kids and the old man were in the living room playing some sort of board game, and Nevada’s bravado faltered when they all looked over at him.

He considered striding past them into the bedroom, closing the door, and ignoring their existence. But curiosity—and maybe a little concern, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself—got the best of him, and he took off his sunglasses, hooked them into the pocket of his jacket, and asked, “Where’s _Chiflado_?”

Jemima stood up and Nevada glared at her, but she glared right back. “He went to the parent-teacher conference,” she said. 

_Shit_ , Nevada thought. He’d forgotten. 

“You were supposed to watch us,” she continued. “Lucky Grandpa was here.”

“You got eyes to watch yourself, I ain’t a babysitter.”

“What’s _Chiflado_?” the old man asked Jeremy, but Jemima spoke before her brother could answer.

“It means _Crackpot_ , just like everyone else who always poked fun at Daddy.”

Nevada narrowed his eyes, ignoring the burning guilt in his gut. “You don’t know everything in the world, _Dama_.”

She walked toward him, and Nevada couldn’t miss the anger shining in her eyes. Her little hands were clenched into fists at her sides. “You were supposed to be here. Daddy trusts you. Where were you?”

“None of your business. If he was so worried he coulda texted me.”

She stopped in front of him, glaring up at him. “You’re a jerk.”

“And you’re a brat,” Nevada shot back. “Go to bed.”

“It’s not bedtime and you can’t tell me what to do.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I just did. I’m the babysitter? I say it’s bedtime.”

“Grandpa’s here,” she said, tilting up her chin in defiance. Nevada glanced toward the old man, to whom he hadn’t been introduced, but _Grandpa_ was studying the game board and didn’t even seem to be paying attention to his granddaughter. Jeremy was watching Jemima and Nevada, though, his young brow knitted in concern.

“For now,” Nevada said in a low voice, returning his dark stare to the girl, “but I live here.” 

“For now,” she shot back, and he felt that blow as a direct hit. 

“Go to bed,” he ground out through his teeth.

“No.”

He leaned down and looked her in the eyes. “I will put your ass in that bed myself. Go.”

She moved past him toward the kitchen and he turned, surprised and also reluctant to have his back to her. She grabbed a chair from the table and dragged it across the floor, making no attempt to quiet the screech of the legs against the wood. Nevada watched in astonishment as she turned the chair and thunked it onto the floor in front of him, climbed up to stand on it so she was at eye level—a little taller, actually—and looked him dead in the face.

“No,” she repeated.

Nevada was grudgingly impressed by her fearlessness, and amused by her clever defiance, but he couldn’t stomach the disrespect. She’d called his bluff, and he was limited to two options: pick her up and put her in bed as threatened, or— 

“Suit yourself, princess,” he said, spreading his arms. “I don’t need this.”

“Leave, then,” she told him. Those words hurt, too, and he barely bit back a retort that would wound her as much as her words did him.

 _Tell your father it’s your fault I left_ , he thought, but he couldn’t throw those words into her face no matter how angry he was. He leaned forward, holding her stare. “I’m not going anywhere except bed. _You_ can do whatever you want except continue being a little shit to my face. I ain’t your father, I ain’t your babysitter, and I ain’t your fucking friend, so you can stand here and—”

“You’re not leaving?”

“I live here,” he repeated. 

“Only because you don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“That might be true,” he said, speaking slowly and carefully, “but unless your father tells me to go—”

“You made him sad.”

She was an expert at finding the right words to do the most damage. She should give lessons. “ _Tu papá se sabe cuidar_ ,” Nevada muttered, glancing away before he could stop himself. _Your father can take care of himself._

“I hate you.”

His gaze flicked up to hers. Her eyes were swimming with tears, her lower lip trembling. “You wish.” He considered her for a few moments. “Little girl, you are very good at being mean, but that’s not a path you wanna take. Believe me.”

“I’m not mean. _You’re_ mean.”

“No shit.”

“We don’t need you,” she said, but the waver in her voice said otherwise. 

“Your daddy needs me,” he answered. It was a contradiction to his statement from a few moments earlier, and yet both things were true.

“No he doesn’t! He has us!” she said, but even at her young age she knew it wasn’t the same—that a father’s love for his children wasn’t the same as having a partner to depend on and confide in. Nevada could see it in her face. 

“Maybe you do, too.”

“I don’t.”

“Because your father, he loves you. He’d do anything for you. He’s a good father, you’re lucky. But he doesn’t see all the potential meanness inside you. He knows you’re tough, but tough and hard ain’t the same thing.”

“I can take care of myself. And Daddy and Remy, too. We don’t need you.”

“Too bad, ‘cause I ain’t goin nowhere.”

“Just leave!” she said. She slammed both of her hands into his chest, her palms making a flat _thwack_ against the leather. He saw the blow coming and planted his feet, which was for the best; she would’ve tumbled off the chair if he wasn’t there for her to brace against until she’d regained her balance. 

He rolled his shoulders. “I’m a lotta things, _Dama_ , but one thing I don’t do is run out on family.”

“We’re not your family!” 

He saw the next blow coming, too, but it wasn’t as easy to brace for. He did his best, but the words still hurt.

“Your family’s dead!”

“Mimi,” Jeremy said from somewhere behind Nevada. Nevada didn’t have to look to know the boy was crying. 

Jemima looked stricken, and Nevada wasn’t surprised. She had the potential for meanness, sure, but she had a good heart. Her father’s heart. It needed to be protected, not hardened.

Nevada leaned forward. “ _Sí_ , Jemima,” he said quietly. “You’re not the only one who misses someone.”

“I—I didn’t mean—I’m sorry—” Tears were rolling out of her eyes, wetting her flushed cheeks.

“You, you’re a pain in my ass, both of you,” he said, gesturing behind himself toward Jeremy. “He never talks and you never shut up, and we know your father drives me up a goddamn wall. But whether you like it or not, you’re my family. Know how I know?”

She shook her head, sending fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. 

Nevada spread his arms. “I came back.”

She sniffled. “But why did you go?” she asked, the words barely audible. “You made Daddy sad. You’re not supposed to do that.”

Nevada drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Everyone I ever loved is gone. Except your father. And you, and your brother. I ran because I was a coward but I don’t want to lose any more family, _Dama_ , so you’re stuck with me.”

“Promise you won’t leave. Promise.”

“ _Lo prometo. Lo siento_.” He paused, regarding her. “You listening to me?” When she nodded, he said, “You don’t wanna be like me, Jemima. I’m gonna make sure you don’t. And there’s nothing you can do or say that’s gonna scare me off. You got that?”

She chewed her lip for a moment before throwing her arms around his neck. “I don’t hate you,” she whispered as she clung tightly to him. 

“I know.” After a moment he wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes, marveling at how small and frail she felt when she was anything but frail. He sighed, squeezing briefly before letting her go. “Now go to bed.” When she opened her mouth to object, he held up a finger to forestall her arguments. “Or at least in your room. I need to talk to your _abuelo_. Please,” he added, raising his brows, and her lips twitched into a smile.

“Fine,” she agreed, taking his offered hand as she hopped down from the chair. “But you’re going to be in trouble when Daddy gets home.”

“Story of my life,” he said, smiling when she laughed. He turned to find Jeremy standing in the middle of the living room while Grandpa Potts continued surveying the game board. “Got anything you wanna climb up on this chair to yell at me?” Nevada asked the boy, gesturing.

Jeremy shook his head. He had tears drying on his cheeks, but he was calm now that Jemima was no longer upset. 

Nevada considered before sinking into a crouch. He crooked a finger but Jeremy hesitated. He glanced at Jemima before crossing slowly to Nevada, looking nervous. “Got anything you wanna whisper at me?” Nevada asked the boy.

Jeremy swallowed and fidgeted. “I’m sorry I make you sad,” he mumbled after a few seconds.

Nevada was caught completely off guard, and he stared into Jeremy’s young face—a face that so often reminded Nevada of someone else. It was on the tip of his tongue to refute the claim, to deny Jeremy’s observation, but Jeremy had seen through the buffer of annoyance and taken the blame onto himself for what he’d found lurking behind.

“It’s not your fault, _mijo_ ,” Nevada said quietly. He drew a bracing breath, reaching out to lay a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” he repeated. “I got a lot of demons, kid, but I’m working on it, okay? Gimme a chance and I’ll do better. And if I fuck up again you tell me, yeah? I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” Jeremy said quietly. 

“No,” Nevada said with a smile, poking lightly at Jeremy’s chest. “Not _Leoncito_. Okay, go in your room, please.”

Jeremy looked up as Nevada straightened. “Daddy left dinner for you, in the microwave.”

Nevada sniffed. “Thanks,” he said. Caractacus always had more faith in him than Nevada had in himself. He watched the kids walk into Jeremy’s bedroom and close the door behind themselves, and then he looked over at Grandpa Potts with a nervous squirm in his gut. He was also a little angry, though. “You didn’t think to jump in, me talking to your _nietos_ like that?”

The old man peered up at him from the sofa but didn’t answer, and Nevada felt another burst of annoyance.

“You don’t know me. You’re supposed to protect them. If a stranger walked in talking to her like I was, I’d—”

“Nevada, is it?” the old man interrupted. “My son is...eccentric. Scatterbrained. He needs a machine to water the plants or he’d forget until they were withered away. He had an alarm set for the meeting tonight and Jemima still had to remind him when it was time to go.”

“You got a point?” Nevada asked through his teeth. If it were anyone other than Caractacus’s own father talking about him— 

“One thing he isn’t is a bad father. He said you live here, he said he trusts you. And my granddaughter doesn’t seem afraid of you.” He shrugged. 

“What else did _Chi_ —Caractacus say about me?”

The old man picked up his hat from the back of the sofa and plopped it onto his head as he got to his feet. “Guess that’s between you and my son. Anyway, since you’ve so kindly sent my grandchildren off to bed, I’m going to hit the sack. It’s…” He glanced at his watch. “Good lord. After midnight for me. Tell them all I’ll be fresh in the morning, would you?”

“Wait,” Nevada said. “I, um.” He cleared his throat and wiped his palm on his jeans before extending it toward the old man. “Nevada Ramirez. Your son…” He paused and cleared his throat again. “Your son and grandkids saved my life, and I give you my word—”

“No need to be so formal,” the old man interrupted, shaking the offered hand. “Bungie Potts.” He considered Nevada for a moment. “My son lights up when he talks about you. Seeing him after he lost Mimsie...well...maybe you saved him, too, Mr. Ramirez. Goodnight,” he added before heading toward Jemima’s room. Nevada supposed sleeping arrangements had already been established in his absence.

“Goodnight, _Señor_ Potts.”

“Bungie,” the old man corrected on a yawn, without looking back, as he disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door.

Nevada fidgeted for a few moments before turning to head toward the kitchen. He grabbed the chair on his way, sliding it back into place at the table, and pulled out his phone. There were no texts or calls from Caractacus, and Nevada debated whether he should send the other man a message to let him know he was home.

Before he could decide, the front door opened and Caractacus stepped into the house. Nevada looked over and caught his gaze before Caractacus scanned the house with a small frown, noting the quiet. “Where is everyone?” he asked as he closed and locked the door.

“I sent the kids to bed.” At Caractacus’s puzzled look, Nevada held up a hand. “I know it’s early, they’re in the boy’s room playing. Your, um, father went to bed, though. Said he’d see you in the morning.”

“Ah, yes,” Caractacus said. “The time difference.” He sighed as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the rack by the door. “If I’d known he was coming, I would’ve planned something special. Did you find your plate in the microwave?”

“Not yet, I was…” Nevada gestured in that direction. Caractacus looked tired, and Nevada started toward him a bit cautiously, searching his face for signs of anger or hesitance. There was neither as Caractacus offered him a small smile. “I met your dad. What kinda name is Bungie?”

Caractacus’s smile grew a little. “He do anything embarrassing?” he asked, although his face was full of fondness rather than concern.

“Embarrassing? Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. He can be eccentric.”

“He said the same about you.”

Caractacus laughed quietly. “The apple and the tree, I suppose.”

“He was nice. Nicer than I deserved.”

“I wanted to introduce you properly—”

“I know. I know you did. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be—”

“There is. There is and I am. I fucking panicked. It won’t happen again.”

“Nevada—”

“It won’t happen again.” Nevada reached out and put his hands on Caractacus’s hips, stepping closer. “I won’t run away.”

Caractacus leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Nevada’s lips. “I’m not angry,” he murmured.

“No. Sad, hurt, and disappointed are a lot worse.”

“I’m not—”

“But in my defense, meeting the future in-laws is always scary,” Nevada added, smiling as Caractacus regarded him with unfettered affection shining out of his green eyes. “Anyway, you look tired.”

“Thanks.”

“Why don’t you go take a bath or something. Relax for a while.”

“I need to make sure the children get ready for bed.”

“I’ll take care of it.” When Caractacus’s eyebrows went up, Nevada rolled his eyes. “If threats don’t work, I’ve got cash for bribes,” he added, and the inventor laughed quietly. “Really, go, I can do it. I was supposed to be babysitting anyway.”

“Well...if you don’t mind…”

Nevada smiled and swatted Caractacus lightly on the ass before stepping back. “How long’s he visiting?”

“A week.”

“Maybe we can all go out to dinner tomorrow. But if you wanna do stuff with just your family it’s okay, I know you ain’t seen him in a while.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Nevada snorted. “I’m only saying I get it if you do.”

“What happened while I was gone to make you so agreeable?”

“I figured some shit out.”

“Oh,” Caractacus laughed, “I’m glad to hear it.”

“So what’d the teachers say? Good things, or do I need to take a walk over to the school?”

“Jeremy’s not doing so well in physical education.”

“What, gym? You run around. I’ve seen him do that in the yard.”

“He’s not great at team sports.”

“Well, neither was I. But he just needs some confidence.” Nevada cleared his throat. “I was thinking...maybe I could, uh...spend a little one on one time with him. If you think it’s okay.”

“Sure,” Caractacus said. 

“What kinda stuff does he like? I mean where would we go?”

“You could ask him,” Caractacus suggested.

“Right, yeah. I’ll do that. Me and Jemima, we talk okay, you know? But him and me need to figure it out.”

Caractacus stepped forward and kissed Nevada, laying a hand against his stubbled jaw. “I love you,” he murmured against his lips.

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
